We The People must take action NOW to rid ourselves of this festering boil, this destroyer of the heart and soul of our nation, this butcher of democracy, this fraudulent dictator-king wannabe – BEFORE any further more damage is done. If we wait and hope for the best, or if we rely on any other nation to “save” us, it will not end well. Any saving must be initiated from within if we want to avoid catastrophic outcomes. It is our duty to save ourselves.
We must…
At the end of each year, the company I work for holds a day-long planning and reflection meeting. We review our company successes and what needs improvement for the upcoming year. We also reflect on our personal goals and achievements. One of the questions asked is, “What did you learn this year?”
That question can sometimes be hard to answer. It’s like when I was in school – I always felt like I learned a lot, but I couldn’t test well enough to prove it. This year was the exception. I’ve learned so much in the last 12-15 months and only wish I had another lifetime to put it all into practice.
First and foremost, as cliché as it sounds, life truly is very, very, VERY SHORT.
August 18, 2023 marked the one-year anniversary of my breast cancer diagnosis. After a final mammogram that day, I was informed that I had no new cancer developments. That was certainly celebration-worthy news, but I let the day go by without much fanfare.
My cancer journey’s bumpy road has included several unexpected road blocks and detours along the way. Until now, I’ve shared those challenges with only my closest family and friends, as well as my boss and co-workers. So, if you follow my blog, you'll understand now why I haven't posted anything since last year. I appreciate your understanding and would like to share my story now with my readers.
Throughout my life, most people have pegged me as someone who has only two emotions – happy and mad – when, in fact, I experience the entire range of emotions that fall between those two extremes. Maybe I’m just so good at hiding my emotions most of the time, that those two are the only ones anyone can ever recognize or acknowledge or assume that I must be feeling.
Imagine, if you will, living in the alternate timeline created by a single diverging event, one that happened in November 2016 – the timeline where Donald Jackass Trump wasn’t elected president and didn’t have the opportunity to shove the fanatical Republican agenda down everyone’s throat in an effort to take control of anyone who’s not a straight white “Christian” male. Yes, that’s right, I put quotation marks around the word “Christian.”
If my opening paragraph didn’t make you immediately stop reading, I want you to imagine that alternate timeline marching progressively forward, rather than regressing back to the oppressive Dark Ages, where a Pro Life movement really is about advocating for the life of a child rather than about controlling women.
According to the Borg of Star Trek fame, “Resistance is futile.” Characters in the popular sci-fi franchise couldn’t successfully resist being assimilated into the Borg Collective and were turned into hybrid organic/cybernetic beings and became part of the hive mind. If 2020 has taught us anything, it’s that resisting change can indeed be futile – or fatal in the case of the COVID-19 virus.
I think; therefore, I am.
When I was a child, I used to lie in bed at night and wonder what it would be like to be dead, to no longer exist. I imagined death as a never-ending plane of darkness filled with absolutely nothing, where nothing ever happened, and where I would be trapped for all eternity. The concept of a vast emptiness of non-existence overwhelmed me; it was too much to comprehend.
